I call Delilah my “dogter” (dog/daughter). At only 12 lbs, my (approx.) 7 y/o dachshund/beagle/jack russell is the greatest joy in my life.
When I adopted Midge McGee (one of her twenty nicknames) in 2009, I was nervous that adopting an adult dog would prevent the level of bonding I had experienced with the dogs I was raised with. Every dog we have owned has been a rescue, but only one was adopted as an adult…and she had severe psychological issues. I have been proven wrong every day since my beaweiner russell came into my life…and I could not be happier to admit it.
Surprisingly, despite having been raised by several strangers during her first year of life, she has my spunk and flirtatious personality (but is very, very short). She never wants to leave my side and crawls into my purse (even attempting clutches and wristlets) whenever I’m getting ready to leave the apartment. She spoons with me under the covers at night, sits on my lap underneath the laptop I’m currently using during the day, and woke me up two years ago when I tripped and cracked my head open on the kitchen tile (after 13 staples to my skull, I came home from NYU Hospital’s emergency room to clean up the blood left from my wound…and the nervous mess she made while I was unconscious on the floor).
I believe our bond is attributed to Delilah having been abandoned several times during her first year of life, that her fierce devotion is the result of having found someone who also felt lost and alone at the time, and I am grateful to have found the love of my life in a pint-sized container (plus she came POTTY TRAINED!).